Paparazzi
by Eliptical
Summary: To get back at Katniss and Peeta for a prank, Haymitch calls Plurtarch to send paparazzi to bother them. How will Katniss and Peeta get rid of them? What will happen next? Fluff! Post Mockingjay, pre-epilouge. How they "grew back together".


**Grr, Yes, I know, I sho****uld be working on "Yes, you're sick", but I couldn't resist :) It's chapter three of 'Birthday Wishes'. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Suzanne Collin's creations. (HG or Gregor the overlander or other)**

* * *

I sit, or rather, lay, across my couch, my feet on Peeta's lap, who is also stretched out on the opposite side of me, his feet behind me. We're watching tv, but really just relaxing. It isn't until I find footage of us that I stop flipping channels. "what's this?" I ask no one in particular. It's a video of us, possibly during the Victory Tour, relaxing on the beach in District Four. "I don't remember them filming this." I say, frowning. Had the camera crews really followed us out there? It seemed unlikely.

We're walking along the shoreline, hand in hand, still wearing our dinner clothes. I feel a ang of guilt when I see Cinna's beautiful creation of gauzy pale green over a thin white underpart of the dress. Peeta was wearing a black suit with accents that matched my dress. The footage almost seemed rehearsed, the way we're laughing and talking. You can't make out what we're saying, which I'm grateful for, since I was really just dissing the idiots whoran the train, since it kept breaking down every few districts.

I feel Peeta tense next to me. I turn and look at him, his face pale, his pupils dilated at odd sizes, sweat dops on his forehead, gripping the side of the couch with a hold like a vice. I suddenly realize he's having an episode from his poisoning. I stand up next to him, wondering what to do. Obviousley this was triggered by a memory, and I glance over to the Tv, realizing it's the footage. That's where he's looking, anyway. I take the remote and flip off the set, watch his muscles relax slightly, with his eyes closed, he starts shaking. I put my hands on his shoulders, willing him to calm down.

"Peeta, you're okay. We're in my living room, watching Tv. Remember last night? We went over to Haymith's and got back at him for letting the geese go in my house. Peeta?"

His eyes are still closed, but he nods. He unclenches his jaw, and his arms relax. I sigh with relief. He opens his eyes for just a second before pulling me into a tight hug. ''Thank you" he whispers against my cheek. It felt odd to have him hug me so forcefully, and I ignored the urge to pull away. Instead I hugged him back.

He was still the steady, calming Peeta, but his arms around me felt different, like he was tentative with holding me. That was another thing I didn't forgive the Capitol for, making Peeta unsteady and unstable. I hear a flash and pull away from Peeta, turning to see the door wide open, three camera men standing in the doorway, holding picture-cameras up to their faces. Shock, then anger raise up inside of me, and I push away from Peeta, glaring at the men before pushing them out of my house. "Get out of here!" I yell at them. They easily leave, and when I get back to the living room, Peeta is standing, and I'm furious. The phone rings a few minutes later, and I stomp off to the study, ripping the phone off the cradel, holding it to my ear. "What?" I spit.

"Katniss! So nice to hear from you!" Oh, great.  
"Plurtarch. Hi." I say dryly, since he's the last person I wanted to talk to right now.  
"It was just wonderful to get those pictures of you and Peeta!" He says cheerfully

_Haymitch..._

"Haymitch told me that you couldn't _wait_ to give them to me! Oh, and congradulations! You shouldv'e told me!" He's positivley laughing of happiness. And I shouldv'e told him what? "So, we brainstormed for a while, and we came up with the idea to do a special on you two, after four years since the rebellion! Did the camera men come?"

"Yes."

"Perfect! Now, I'd like you and Peeta to-"  
"Plurtarch," i interrupt him, "No more cameras."  
"But-"  
"None" I say, a tone of finallity to my voice. I hang up the phone, and walk back out of the study to find Peeta peeking out the window. "What are you doing?" I ask him, walking up beside him. "There's more of them outside" he says, taking a step to the side to let me see. And it's true; There's about five camera guys standing on the porch, taking pictures and holding out microphones to us. I walk away in discust, after closing the curtain on their faces. Then I get a great idea.

"Hey Peeta," I say mischeviousley.

"Yes?"

"You want to help me get rid of the camera men?"

He looks slightly uncertain, but he nods anyway. "Come on," I tell him, pulling him by the hand.

* * *

After mixing te concoction of old milk, rotten eggs and stale scotch, Peeta and I fill buckets of the stuff and climb the stairs to my room. The camera crew is still near the front door, calling our names, so they don't notice the window opening. Peeta hands me a foul-smelling sponge and cringes as the smell hits him. I grin as I turn around, to the window.

"Go away!" I shout down to them.

They look between each other, confused, until one of them with green hair shouts back, "We need footage!"

"Now?" Peeta asks them

"Yes! Come down here for an interview!"

"Leave!" I tell them, but one of them with fat, purple lips shakes her head.

"You've been warned!"

I drop the sponge, and even from up here I can smell the putrid stench. It landed with a loud _splat, _squirting all the juice it had into the air. A few of them shriek and drop their cameras, and one even runs away. "Now will you go away?" Peeta asks

The green-haired one gives me the look, the same one effie used when I ate my dinner with my fingers, the dissaproving pursed-lips. "Plurtarch will not be happy about this" I pick up the blowhorn that we used last night, and let the loud screech fill the silence. Green-hair glares at us, then stomps away. Peeta and I fall onto my bed, laughing as much as we did yesterday, and in the same position, me on top of him. I jerk my head up from where it rested against his neck, startled, realizing where I was. Peeta and I were barely friends, nothing more. This kind of ruined the whole 'only friendship' thing, so I scramble off of him. He realizes this too, and clears his throat. There's an awkward silence before a slurred knock at the door. I hop off the bed and make my way downstairs, Peeta right behind me.

Haymitch stands in the kitchen, after letting himself in, digging through the fridge. I sit on the counter, arms crossed over my chest. "Haymitch, what do you want?" I ask bluntly.

"Hey sweethearts, you enjoy the paparazzi?" He bumps his head as he pulls out a bottle of liquor from the fridge, then takes a swig of it. He chuckles lightly. "I told Plurtarch you guys were getting married." Oh. So that's what Plurtarch was talking about.

"_What?_ Haymitch, It was just one prank!"

"Hm, well maybe next time you should wait until I'm drunk" he slurrs, the alchahol already getting to him. "Fine" I mutter.

"And-" He adds, "Maybe you both shouldn't be upstairs in you're bedroom if you dont...want to give them the wrong idea" Can someone really get drunk that fast?

"_And_, lock you're door, if you're gonna-"

"Haymitch! We werent..."

"_Right._ Thanks for the booze" he says, laughing to himself as he leaves.

Sometimes, he's just too much. But at least we don't have to worry about Plurtarch's cameras anymore.

* * *

**The ending isn't the best, but oh well. Haha, Haymitch... **

**Okay, next chapter will be up soon. This is really fun to write!**

**xoxoxox Review Plz xoxoxoxox**


End file.
